His
by Naruke
Summary: Shikamaru's a father. [oneshot]


**Disclaimer**: I no own.

**-His-**

Grunting. Panting with exertion. Two bodies moving as one.

As her whimpering plea for more reaches his ears, the only thing to cross his mind is to please her.

Only here and now exists. Only the girl beneath him matters. The world could blow up, catch fire, and burn to ashes, and he wouldn't give a rat's ass.

Only the delicious tightening in his stomach matters. The only sound that matters is her mewls of delight, her soft cries of pleasure.

Only one thing, one person…

Euphoria.

---

Muffled cries of pain. Soft coaxing. Heavy breathing.

His stomach twists in anxiety. He wants to be by her side, be there to hold her hand. But he can't. It's not allowed.

A piercing shriek resounds, quickly followed by a silence. A long, empty silence.

When a minute has passed and still he hears nothing, he paces faster. Why no noise? Even though it tore him in two whenever he heard it, screams of pain were better than this empty chasm of nothingness.

Finally, a sound: The door creaks open, and he stops mid-stride. The large-breasted woman in the doorway silently beckons him closer. A brief whispered conversation ensues. Then he enters.

There she is, sitting up straight in the hospital bed, smiling exhaustedly. Her cheeks are a soft tint of pink, almost matching her hair. Sheis sweaty, and her usually perfect hair was matted with it. In her arms she cradled a mound of blankets.

Haltingly, he takes a step towards her.

Don't stumble. Don't fall. Don't do anything stupid.

He struggles with his thoughts but still continues forward. He reaches her side, and she beams up at him. Anxious though he is, he smiles back, extending a hand to rest on her shoulder.

A squirming movement from within the blankets startles him. A bald, round-headed infant peeks up at him. It smiles and extends tiny hands. Slowly, his shaking hand leaves his wife's shoulder. He makes a fist, excluding his index finger, and offers it to the baby. The baby coos and grasps onto his enormous finger.

The touch, tiny as it may have been, nearly brings him to tears. His wife murmurs something to him, and he hesitates.

What if he drops it? What if it begins to cry?

His wife continues to urge him, and finally he concedes.

He won't drop it. It won't cry.

He slowly takes his finger from the baby, who smiles a toothless smile. The woman slowly lifts her-their-baby, and he takes it in his arms. It giggles, and he smiles in relief. It didn't cry.

He begins to walk around the room slowly. The baby seems to enjoy his first trip.

He returns back to his wife and asks to take his baby on a tour of the hospital. She grins and says yes.

He walks out of the room and wanders the hallways, proudly showing off his baby to anyone who passed. Everyone coos and talks to the infant while it just smiles.

As he returns back to where his wife rests, he meets the other two members ofTeam Seven. The blonde enthusiastically greets him and gets to hold his baby. The other, stoic one just nods, and keeps walking.

The blonde returns his baby to him, and he journeys back to the room.

As he carefully hands his baby back to his wife, he is filled with a sudden rush of pride-this is his baby, his heir, his first born.

As his wife lifts the babe to her breast, he suddenly realises that he does not know what gender it is. He asks her and she rolls her eyes, pointing at his own crotch.

He smiles sheepishly, asking his name. She smiles her angelic smile. 'Sakumaru.'

Sakumaru. A fitting name, made from his and his wife's name.

Memories flash in his mind. Throwing his first shuriken. Going to the Academy for the first time. Making friends out of all the annoying kids no one liked. Becoming a Chuunin. Cloud-watching.

He was proud now. How proud would he be when his son accomplished those sorts of things? He would probably burst with pride.

He looks down at his son. He has stopped suckling and is now fast asleep, as is his wife. He smiles and sits down in a chair by the bed.

He takes on last glance at his family before closing his eyes.

His. His own. His very own, and he will love them to the very last.


End file.
